So Many Boys (The Naughty List #2)(18)
Author: Suzanne Young

“Um…I’ve been studying. My classes are tough this semester.” Megan glanced sideways at Riley, but he kept his eyes trained on the table.

“You’re such a nerd.” Jenn laughed, touching her mouth with the napkin.

Riley started to open his mouth, then looked quickly back down at the table. Had he been about to defend his accomplice? The operative smiled. Riley exposing himself like that would be a lethal mistake.

Jenn sighed and glanced at her watch. “I have to babysit in half an hour,” she said to Riley. “You ready?”

He nodded, his face turning a deep pink. Jenn looked at him strangely, then rolled her eyes and slid from the booth. “I’ll be right back; I have to pee first.” She took one last sip from her drink before heading past the counter to the back restrooms.

“I’m so sorry, Meg,” Riley murmured to Megan the minute his girlfriend was out of sight. “I didn’t mean to—”

“I have to go,” Megan said, the vinyl of the seat sticking to her thighs as she moved away from him. “I can’t do this anymore. Tell Jenn I’ll call her later.” Megan grabbed her purse angrily before jumping to her feet.

The operative tilted her head. For a second, she admired Megan’s loyalty to her friend. But what she saw next made her lip curl. Megan paused at the end of the booth; suddenly she leaned down, her blonde hair falling forward to block the operative’s view. She bent toward Riley’s ear.

“I love you too,” she whispered. Then, without even buying what she came for, she walked out of the shop.

The operative’s stomach turned. She was momentarily stunned by Megan’s careless statement. Megan wasn’t allowed to tell him that. She wasn’t allowed to do that! This was treachery in the first degree.

Reaching up to remove the listening device from her ear, the operative accidentally bumped into the table, knocking over her cherry Coke.

“Shit,” she said, jumping away as the liquid streamed to the floor. When Riley glanced over his shoulder at her, she nearly passed out. But he chuckled at the party foul without seeming to register the operative’s presence.

Exhaling in relief, she then grabbed her leather backpack and headed toward the exit, trying to wrap her mind around the interactions she’d been witnessing. This was too complicated, and she wasn’t sure she’d be able to prove anything.

“I know, Tate.”

The operative stopped mid-step and glanced down the hallway to the bathroom. Jenn was standing there, pressing her cell to one ear.

“I’ll be there,” she murmured. “Ten thirty tomorrow at Skinner Butte.” She smiled. “I’ll see you then.”

Before Jenn could look up, the operative turned on her heels and made for the front door. Score one for the spy.

CHAPTER SEVEN

I YANKED MY T-SHIRT OVER MY HEAD AS THE midday sun filtered in through my sheer bedroom curtains. My parents were out of town until tonight doing a gig at a coffeehouse in Vancouver, which was a good thing. I was pretty sure they’d be unhappy with me cutting school. But it was a gorgeous day, and I had a mission—I was already feeling like the old me.

I went right for it. The skirt was tucked under my winter sweaters, where I liked to keep it hidden. Sometimes when I was feeling down, I’d wear the uniform for moral support. But I never told anyone that. It was sort of sad. But—this was different.

I wiggled out of my dark denim jeans and tossed them into the corner. Then I smoothed my hands reverently over the polyester fabric of the skirt. One foot at time, I stepped into it, pulling the waistband slowly over my hips and thighs until it rested at my waist.

Next I shook out the sleeveless top before pulling it down over my flesh-colored bra. Wow. I must have been downing more Frappuccinos than I realized—my cle**age was overflowing—okay for in the house, but not really game appropriate. Sort of like how Chloe used to dress. Provocatively.

I slid my feet into my official regulation-style sneakers, tying the laces tightly. Without missing a beat, I crossed over to my vanity, adrenaline already pumping. This felt right. This felt natural. I knew I’d be able to think and plan more clearly with the power of the skirt.

I picked up a ponytail holder and gathered my hair in one hand, securing the elastic with the other. Once I had it fastened, I selected a maroon ribbon from the bunch I kept draped across the top of my dresser. Holding it delicately, I wrapped it around my ponytail and tied it into a perfect bow. I took a step back, looked myself over, and smiled. My ritual was complete.

In uniform—albeit a tight one—I was in control. My cheer skirt (a little short), my top (a little revealing), and even my ribbon (perky as ever!) were what I was born to wear.

Suddenly I wasn’t scared anymore. I was seriously PO’d. Someone had been tampering with my name, my computer, and—worse yet—my reputation. And I had a pretty good feeling I knew who she was.

With renewed determination, I walked out of my bedroom ready to fight. Ready to claw out the eyes of the imposter. It was only a matter of time before she exposed our identities, and that was totally unacceptable.

I crossed my living room, my sneakers squeaking against the wood floors. I loved that sound. Pacing the room, I began to formulate a plan. I knew the skirt would help!

Okay, first I was going to drive toward Chloe’s neighborhood and see if there was a clear path to her room. Then I’d—

A shuffling sound behind me made my back go rigid. I paused at the edge of the kitchen and spied my car keys lying on the granite counter. Quickly I grabbed them, holding them between my knuckles as a weapon. I swallowed hard. Someone was here. I’d read about stranger danger in last month’s Cosmo—

“Hey, baby.”

“Aaiii!” I spun around, swinging my key weapon, striking out wildly. Aiden screamed back, obviously not expecting me to stab him in the ribs.

“Tess!”

“Frizzlesticks, Aiden! What are you doing here?” My heart was pounding out of my chest. Relief followed by giddiness at seeing Aiden were almost too much for me to handle. I dropped my car keys on the floor with a clank and to put my hands on his shoulders.

Aiden was bent over, holding his left side near his rib cage and looking up at me like I was the crazy one.

“Aw, f**k,” he said quietly. “Am I bleeding?” He lifted up the side of his T-shirt, peering down at his chest.

Luckily he wasn’t bleeding. But I glanced over his torso anyway, just to survey the damage. Okay, he was bleeding a little. I bit my lip guiltily.